Cross Country
by ovolamp
Summary: ON HIATUS. Alex has decided to participate in his schools annual cross country for the first time in three years. And, as per usual, trouble follows him, in the form of a psychotic killer, and one very pissed off SAS man. Now a Two-Shot.
1. Part One

**A/N - EDITED: **I did a run through before I started writing the sequel to this story and edited sentence structures as well as removed unnecessary words. As this was my first, most successful bit of writing, I didn't change too much, as I wanted to keep it mostly how it was. Thank you to everybody who has reviewed! I'm sorry that I never got around to personally thanking you, but you should know that your feedback was really inspiring to me. Thank you all again!

**Word-Count - **4732**  
Rating - **T**  
Genre - **Humor/Action  
**Warning** - Contains an incy wincy bit of swearing.  
**Disclaimer - **All recognizable characters from the Alex Rider series belongs to Anthony Horowitz. I just enjoy rolling them around in the palm of my hand... x)

* * *

Cross Country  
Part One

* * *

"Welcome, welcome," an exuberant voice called over the crackly static of the schools worn megaphone. "To another craptacular -"

"Tom!" Another voice, distinctly female and very, _very_ reproachful, snapped.

"Right, Miss B. Sorry," was the jovial reply, not in the least bit contrite. "I meant _spectacular_, bit of a slip of the tongue, there. Won't happen again, promise."

"Good."

"Great! Now, where was I? Oh, right. _Welcome_, my fellow pubescent piles of stunted growth, to Brookland High's annual Cross Country, where the strong prevail, the weak, unfortunately, fail and the rest of us slackers are just here to boost our attendance and watch the race, until, of course, we are put to sleep by the sheer lack of action and intrigue…"

Miss B's defeated sigh was entirely too audible over her own speaker.

Tom was undeterred.

"… The condition's today are perfect for an afternoon siesta. Sunny, with a few undertones of apathy and a hint of repetitiveness that will be sure to have your consciousness thoroughly shutdown by midday…"

* * *

Alex listened, half-heartedly, to his best mate's antics as they echoed through the crowd of rowdy teenagers, vaguely wondering who in their right mind had let the boy commentate on the day's event. It wasn't that Tom was bad at it – he could be bloody hilarious when he wanted to be. The problem was, unfortunately, that his comedy had a tendency to irritate certain people. Hotheaded jocks, bullies, the general masses – he didn't discriminate.

Tom's humor was the reason the two of them had such a close friendship. A misinterpreted joke had gotten the under-achiever severely beaten up one afternoon. When Alex, who happened to have a proclaimed Jesus-complex, had come across the shorter boy a little while later, he'd helped the disheveled teen home, and then promptly thrashed his tormentor the next day.

His mouth twitched into a small smile at the memory, which rapidly morphed into a frown as Tom continued his unorthodox annotations with a certain amount of merriment. Alex shot a meaningful glare over towards the podium, where his buddy and a flustered looking Miss B were sitting. It said, with faultless clarity, that, _when you get your arse whipped today because of this bullshit I am not going to come and save you_.

Tom offered a shit-eating grin in return.

Alex rolled his eyes and turned back to what he was doing. Pulling on his trainers, he scanned the crowd of students around him. Most of them were dressed in the normal school uniform, not intending to participate in the ten kilometer run that the day was all about. The other few who were planning on running in the race wore their sports gear, and were encouraging their friends to bet on them.

That was, essentially, why Alex was there today. It was Tom's fault idea. The shorter boy had bet over fifty pounds on Alex, so that if Alex won (which was bound to happen, what with Alex being accomplished spy for MI6) Tom would have doubled his money and Alex would have received absolutely nothing.

Except, his mate had hurried to tell him as Alex had moved to slam his door upon hearing the proposal, Tom's unconditional love and loyalty.

Which Alex had anyway, but he'd agreed to the 'scam', as Tom had excitedly called it, because he owed his pal that much.

He owed his pal a lot.

"Andrea," Tom shouted through the amplifier, earning several indignant and slightly pained cries in return as the megaphone emitted a discordant, mechanical wail. "Did you clean your pants with Windex? 'Cause I can practically see myself in them!"

There was a smattering of applause, some laughter, and an enraged roar, presumably from Andrea's boyfriend, as Tom threw out on of the worst pick-up lines in the history of mankind.

"Why isn't he getting in trouble for that?" Alex, who'd been pulling his shoelaces taught, paused and glanced up at the speaker. It was Eagle, Alex's unofficial bodyguard for the occasion, and, he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Why Alex needed a bodyguard for such a mundane event was something he didn't want to delve into. He'd been told, vaguely, that one of his many enemies had caught up with him (a feat that hardly surprised him, it was bound to happen, being a spy, and all) and had arranged to _dispose_ of him during the cross country.

That had been enough for him. He didn't need details. He didn't need to know how they knew he was going to be in the event – although he had a well-founded suspicion that it had something to do with Tom and his whole _betting _scene.

He stared at the SAS soldier, blankly. Eagle was his codename; he'd learnt that months ago when he was subjected to a highly volatile crash course at a military training camp before being sent off on his first mission. It had been a grueling experience, made worse by the sheer unfriendliness of the unit he'd been dumped on. They'd made his time there utter hell, and the well-muscled guy standing next to him, supposedly watching his back now? He was one of them.

Alex wasn't letting him forget it. Closed off body language, ignoring the man's attempts at small talk and acting unnecessarily hostile when it _was_ compulsory to interact with Eagle – he was sending a _very_ clear message.

'_I don't forgive you.'_

"Alex," saying his name didn't elicit a response, Eagle had learned almost instantly. But it did direct Alex's attention towards him, or at least he hoped. He really couldn't tell; the kid had a damn good poker face.

Just to make sure the brat was listening; he reached over and tousled the kid's hair, throwing it into complete disarray. Alex tensed immediately at the touch, barely able to restrain himself from lashing out and breaking the man's intrusive arm, or better yet, his neck and putting the bastard out of Alex's misery.

But Alex would do neither of those violent actions. For one, he was in the middle of a pack of extraordinarily judgmental teenagers, and two: It would blow Eagle's cover.

And what was Eagle's cover? Among other things, it saw him acting as Alex's long lost brother of Irish descent.

MI6 could be so painfully useless at times. Even if it was Alex's life hanging in the balance – or not, he'd told them in their last meeting, when Eagle had first been assigned and Alex had actively rejected their decision. For Christ sake, he was a bloody _spy_. Did they honestly think he couldn't take care of himself? The answer was, of course, no. He couldn't. Because this wasn't an impossible suicide mission that only a fourteen year old had a chance of completing, like the last few tasks he had been blackmailed into. This was different, the heads of MI6 had insisted. Alex had answered, rather bluntly, that they, rather unfortunately, suffered from selective thinking, and if they were going to burden him with SAS, they could do it during the previously mentioned unfeasible jobs, when he actually needed it.

They'd had the gall to tell him to stop being childish, it was _unbecoming_.

"Well?" Eagle's deep, accented baritone pulled Alex from his inner musing's, and alerted him to the fact that said man's hand was still tangled in his hair. With forced patience, he lightly swatted Eagle's arm away and focused on him, raising an eyebrow in question while subtly shifting out of the older man's reach.

Eagle scowled. He _really_ wasn't fond of repeating himself, and over such a pointless issue too. But he wouldn't back off and let the antisocial brat win. He was going to get a response, whether Alex wanted to give him one or not.

"I asked if he would get in trouble for that." He repeated; managing to sound relatively indifferent, and appear it, too, as he casually inspected his nails.

"No," Alex replied, curtly.

Eagle pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation; it felt slightly disconcerting to be publically shunned by someone half his age. He pointedly stared at Alex's hunched frame for a moment, before letting his eyes shift back to the crowd, analyzing the area and its inhabitants for any sign of threat.

His booted foot swung out and clipped the boy on the calf. "Are you going to behave?"

Alex's poisonous glare melted into a look of incredulity. It was the first time that Eagle had actually sounded dead serious, and, he thought in disgust, completely bloody patronizing. "Excuse me?"

"When the bastard ambushes you out on the trail, are you going to press your panic button and alert me? Or are you going to be a prat, go all gung-ho and get yourself killed?" Eagle asked, blandly, still assessing and re-assessing the vicinity.

"You-" Alex started angrily, irked at the obvious belittlement in the man's words. But he was abruptly cut off.

"Because, frankly," Eagle continued, coolly. "You're attitude is pointing at the latter. And if I can't be certain that you'll play your part, I'm pulling you out."

Alex was on his feet in seconds, about to cuss the soldier to hell and back, when Eagle held up his index finger, effectively cutting Alex off. Again.

"Areyou going to behave?"

Alex twitched, now understanding what the man wanted. He didn't like it one bit.

"Yes." He ground out through clenched teeth, almost choking on the word. It pained him even more to see the triumphant expression that briefly flitted across Eagle's face, before the man's chiseled features smoothed back into blankness.

But the bastard didn't let it drop – payback, maybe, for openly scorning him.

"Yes," a sardonic smile stretched the man's mouth. "What?"

Oh Tom was a dead – subjecting Alex to this torment. Not Eagle, because, in all honesty, said man could probably snap him like a toothpick. No, it was Tom who was going to suffer; the spiky haired boy and his unhealthy lust for cash were indirectly responsible for this ordeal.

"Yes," Alex muttered, defeated for the moment. "I'll behave."

Eagle tore his gaze away to the round-faced boy sitting close by, talking to his wiry friend in hushed tones and throwing shifty glances in Alex's general direction. He turned to the tortured looking Alex and reached out to mockingly pet his cheek.

"Good boy."

Alex squirmed.

Eagle grinned.

* * *

"That guy is giving me the creeps."

Hamish Ulverstone peered up from the cracked screen of his game boy and across the clearing at the man his friend, Jackson Riley, was talking about.

He was lean, with compact muscles and a watchful face. Brown hair and light stubble, with piercing blue eyes – he was the kind of man that radiated danger.

And he was staring right at them.

"You think he knows?" Jackson whispered, nervously. His teeth worrying at his bottom lip while he anxiously tugged at the collar of his faded polo-shirt.

Hamish snorted at the insinuation. "How could he possibly know, Jack?"

"Well-"

"Did you tell him?" Hamish interrupted, bluntly. His fingers never faltering as they rapidly attacked the controls on his device. Jackson snarled indignantly beside him.

"Of course not," the other boy hissed, leaning close enough into Hamish's personal space that he could see the fearful sweat practically glistening off Jackson's pallid skin. "I ain't a bloody idiot, Hame."

Even though Hamish would have very much liked to argue that point, he didn't. Instead, he opted to placate his skittish friend. "Then he can't know, Jack. Stop your fretting, and quit looking over at them. It's suspicious."

Jackson immediately averted his gaze, but he did not relax.

"You sure?" he muttered quietly, stretching his paper-thin body out across the picnic blanket they were resting on and trying to appear inconspicuous.

"Positive." Hamish deadpanned.

There was silence, and then;

"Do you think what we did was right?"

Hamish visibly rolled his eyes and mashed his thumb into the button on his console a lot harsher than required. "Jesus, Jack. We only told him where the race was held, and that Alex was in it. We didn't commit a damn crime, or anything."

"But why did he want to know? What if he's going to do something bad?"

"Oh come off it, Jack!" Hamish admonished with a fair amount of amusement, "What do you think he's going to do? Kill him?"

Jackson watched as Hamish chortled, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

A feeling he would later come to know as _trepidation_.

* * *

"Could the competitors in the first run please make their way down to the official starting point," Miss B called over her speaker. "The event will be underway shortly, so please make your final preparations now."

Alex shifted lightly from one foot to the other. He held a water bottle loosely in his right hand. It was a small popper top, and, when he popped the top, it sent out a distress signal – to Eagle. It was a gadget, of course, made by Mr. Smither's at MI6. But, unlike most of the devices made by the short, pudgy man, Alex was far from impressed with this one.

"_How,"_ Alex had asked with prominent irritation. _"Am I supposed to drink out of this thing?"_

"_You can't." _Smither's had replied, sheepishly, and rather apologetically. _"Bit of an oversight, my boy, sorry."_

"_It's a ten kilometer run!"_ He'd huffed. _"I'll die of dehydration!"_

"_Nonsense, Alex." _Mr. Blunt, otherwise known as the heartless head of MI6, had smoothly entered the conversation at that point. _"Stop the dramatics and act your age."_

Alex had complied, and forced himself not to impishly inform Mr. Blunt that he _was_, as a matter of fact, _acting his age._

"… Immediately if you run into trouble, you hear me?"

Alex blinked, confused. "Sure?"

Eagle adjusted his earpiece and reached under his leather jacket to confirm that his concealed weapon was still there. Alex chose that moment to point out, again, that having his own comm would have been a lot more convenient.

"We've been over this, Alex," Eagle responded, neutrally, as Alex's complaint had lacked sarcastic bite for the first time since they'd met earlier in the morning. "If he see's you with a headset, he'll know you're onto him. Plus, you're friend's will get curious, and you don't want that, do you?"

"Well _you're _wearing one, and _you're_ supposed to be my brother."

"I don't see where you're going with this."

"And I don't see your logic."

Eagle shrugged, before activating his comm and speaking quietly into it. There was a brief moment of nothing, and then a disembodied voice echoed through.

It sounded faintly Scottish.

"Why couldn't Snake be my backup?" Alex demanded, immediately identifying the voice as that of one of the other men from his temporary unit. "At least he has blonde hair. It would have been easier to pass him off as a relative."

A single sentence filled with warmth could have an amazing effect on a teenager in way over his head. Snake had been the only soldier to openly show Alex kindness at the hellish military camp, and he would have preferred the slightly more amiable Scotsman over Eagle.

"Because," to his credit, the soldier didn't sound particularly miffed. "_I'm_ your backup, you ungrateful brat."

In fact, although he wouldn't admit it aloud, Alex would have taken Wolf, the unit's cruel, overgrown bully of a leader instead. At least knew where he stood with the short-tempered man.

Eagle was unchartered territory.

"You should get down to the starting point, kid. It's about to begin."

Eagle inspected his watch, twisting it around on his wrist as he waited for the boy to move. "I'll be right behind you," he added, reassuringly. Alex nodded. That was the plan. Eagle would follow Alex into the forest, out of sight and a little way behind, until Alex pushed the panic button. Eagle would then place a call back to the cavalry (several SAS agents stationed in a van in the nearby parking lot) while he moved to backup Alex.

It was an extremely convoluted plan. Alex had asked why the other SAS soldiers couldn't just tail him, to reduce the level of difficulty.

"_One person is less likely to be noticed." _Eagle had explained. _"We don't want to spook this guy, Alex. We want to catch him, so he won't come after you in the future, and hurt you, alright?"_

Eagle clapped him on the shoulder, an over enthusiastic testament of brotherly love that left his arm aching a little painfully, before giving him a firm shove.

"Get a move on, brat. We haven't got all bloody day."

Alex went.

* * *

Alex settled into a steady lope once he'd put the energetic swarm of shouting peers a few hundred meters behind him. There were three others trotting alongside and nearby, pacing themselves like the track veterans they were. The rest of the competitive group had broken into, and continued, a rash sprint as soon as the starting horn had blared. Alex smiled grimly – they wouldn't get far.

There are tree's were everywhere. Solid, tall and wide – so wide that they almost touched each other and so tall that their shadows turned the trail the boy's were jogging down dark. The impenetrable barrier of plantation was almost stifling. It soaked up the soft _thudding_ of Alex's footsteps as he moved.

Even the ragged breathing of his classmates was hard to hear over the oppressive silence.

Nobody would hear if someone screamed, Alex thought morbidly as he pushed himself a little faster. This was the perfect place to bump a person off.

It wasn't a comforting notion.

* * *

It had been five minutes; the amount of time he'd told Alex he'd wait before following the kid in. But, just as he'd been about to slip into the foliage, relatively unnoticed, he heard something that had him frozen, literally, in his tracks.

His eyes narrowed.

"Yeah," the slightly overweight teenager that had caught his attention earlier muttered into his phone as he meandered about the edge of the sandstone toilet block, absently picking at the wall. "Alex went in a couple of minutes ago."

His skinny friend wasn't anywhere in sight, and, unluckily for the kid, nobody else was, either.

Eagle waited, patiently, for the call to end.

Then he struck.

There was a reason the SAS were considered Britain's elite soldiers.

One moment, the boy was standing near the entrance of the men's restroom, pouting slightly at the shiny black mobile in his hand. Then, he vanished.

Inside the lavatory, Hamish Ulverstone fought weakly against Eagle's strong hold as the man trapped him inside the cubicle furthest from the door. A calloused hand clamped across his mouth to staunch the terrified screams.

The other hand lazily cuffed the adolescent over the head to quell his struggles.

"Marshmallow," Eagle spoke in a rough tone that promised copious amounts of pain. "If you don't tell me everything you know about the guy you were talking to just now, you and this toilet are going to get intimately acquainted, understood?"

* * *

There was a canal. It was empty, of course. But Alex still got a sense of foreboding when he saw it over the horizon. At the end of the dirt path he'd been following, there was a red arrow that pointed directly into the dry waterway. He scanned the top of the duct and saw it.

A ladder – there was one on the other side as well.

They had to climb in and then out. Brilliant.

Behind him, Alex could make out the sounds of his peers leaving the woods. There was some excited chatter about being clear of the 'spooky forest', a fair bit of heavy panting and a breathless greeting aimed his way as the boy's drew level. Alex absentmindedly returned it.

"What've you stopped here for?" Jackson (Alex was sure his name was) questioned as he doubled over and tried to catch his breath.

Alex shrugged. "No reason."

"Just looking, eh?" Another boy asked between short sips from his bottle.

Jackson straightened up and none-to-gently elbowed the boy who was drinking in the stomach. "Don't go and give yourself cramps, James."

James snorted. "I look like an idiot to you?"

"From here? Yeah, you do."

Alex rolled his eyes at the banter and watched, amused, as Jackson started forward, dodging James' fist as it flung out to slug him. He wandered over to the ladder, eyeing it for a moment before maneuvering himself down it. There was excessive rattling, a curse and then Jackson's wholehearted shout of, "Git!" floated up out of the channel.

"Hey!" James cried out, offended. "I should be the one saying that!"

"Slow as always, huh James?" Jackson sniped from somewhere below them. Alex shook his head and swept towards the ladder.

It was when his foot touched the last rung that all hell just seemed to break loose.

James was shouting heatedly down at Jackson while the latter smirked. Alex was beginning to feel the dull throb of an oncoming headache when an ominous creak resounded throughout the narrow passageway.

Everyone fell quiet.

Alex's feet tapped onto solid ground.

Then, the floodgates opened.

Someone screamed.

A surging mass of water exploded through the entrance, tearing down the passageway at a dangerous speed. Alex's world trembled, the shockwave hitting him before the whitewater could. The roar of the rapids howled in his ears; a raw sound that chilled him to the bone, froze him to the spot.

By the time his brain began to whir again, it was already too late.

* * *

Eagle tore through the undergrowth, shouting into his earpiece and out into the stillness of the timberland at the same time, desperately calling for Alex.

He was about half-way to Alex's location when he heard the ill-omened sound of gushing water. If anything, he pushed himself faster, harder, further. He leapt agilely over a fallen log covered in a light green moss. Weaved through the all too solid trees. Slid much too quickly down a steep hill.

A shriek, loud, fearful, and undoubtedly human echoed through the forest.

Eagle swore.

* * *

It felt like he'd been hit by a truck.

But this truck was cold, and _everywhere_. Alex battled against it, his limbs erupting in a flurry of uncoordinated movements as he tried to reach the surface and ease the steadily building burn in his lungs. The water pulled at him, twisting and turning him, rolling him about effortlessly in its relentless grip.

Then, he rammed into something. It bent a little as he made contact and he vainly reached through the murky haze of water to grab it.

His hand closed around a pole.

_The ladder!_

His other arm snaked out to wrap around it, too. He was in the process of navigating his legs sluggishly towards the steps when something seized them.

The resulting shock almost knocked Alex off his escape route. He panicked, briefly, before common sense kicked in, and he remembered that he hadn't been alone.

_Jackson._

Not wanting to dislodge the other boy, Alex stopped moving his lower half and began to bodily heave himself, and Jackson, up and out. His muscles seared as he dragged the combined weight upwards, constantly battling with the water as he went. In what Alex considered to be too long of a time, he reached the pure bliss of air… and the menacing barrel of a gun.

_Damn_. And Jackson was still underwater, fruitlessly tugging on Alex's pants.

'_Get me out of here,'_

He was going to drown, Alex thought with a pang of regret. And Alex was about to be shot in the head.

Could he ever catch a break?

"Little bloody wonder boy aren't you?" The silhouette on the other end of the weapon cooed softly, mockingly, triumphantly. "But you can't dodge death at point blank range, I'm afraid, no matter how talented you are."

He cocked the gun, "Say goodbye," he chuckled. "You menace."

A solitary gunshot rang out.

"Goodbye." A voice drawled. There was a soft _splash_as a body hit the water.

* * *

"Took you long enough," Alex rasped as he dragged himself onto sweet, solid ground. Coughing and hacking all the way. He wriggled a bit further, scraping his stomach across the rough floor until he heard Jackson's feeble moan.

Then he collapsed, sucking in long, deep breaths.

Eagle didn't respond. Instead, he swooped down on the waterlogged teens and checked them over, poking and prodding and questioning none-too-gently.

"You're alright?" He asked calmly, once he'd given both boy's a thorough once over.

It was Jackson who answered, hoarsely. "Yeah, thanks to Alex, and his deceptive upper body strength."

There was a brief pause,

"I do Cardio." Alex said, flatly.

The teenager and the soldier stared blankly at the spy.


	2. Part Two

**A/N: **So, three years in the making... I know I promised a sequel of sorts back when this came out, so a couple of days ago I put the pedal to the metal and pumped this monstrosity out. I've been going through all my stories and have decided that there will be edits, re-writes and sequels before I even think about starting anything new. So here is the sequel to Cross Country. There will be a couple more one-shot/two-shot's coming out in this verse, too.

**The original Cross Country has been edited, and due to the time gap between the first part and second part, I would suggest re-reading so you don't get too confused about what is happening.**

**Word-Count - **8030  
******Rating - **T**  
********Genre - **Humor/Action  
******Warning: **Contains swearing, some violence, and allusions to torture.

* * *

Cross Country  
Part Two

* * *

Eagle, probably due to the simple fact that he knew Alex, wrapped him in his leather jacket before taking the dead man's coat and giving it to Jackson.

"I-is t-that b-blood?" The boy asked through chattering teeth, noticing the wet stain on one of the shoulders.

It had been a clean headshot on Eagle's part, so there was little mess, but what Jackson could see was clearly freaking him out. "Don't think about it," the soldier advised, patting him absently on the shoulder.

Across the canal, soldiers started pouring out of the tree line, dressed in full tactical clothing and toting automatics. One of them grabbed the boy who had been left on the other side of the river, and shepherded him back the way he'd come. The rest of them fanned out, scouring the area, some making their way to the bridge Eagle had crossed to get there. It was a far way down, out of sight and roped off so that nobody thought to cross it.

"So," Alex said, watching as a troop of men came towards them, now on their side of the bank, with Wolf in the lead. "Who's the designated PR representative?"

By that, he meant 'who's the unlucky bastard who gets to explain this to the media?'

Eagle shrugged. "We usually flip for it."

* * *

Hamish was terrified.

After several minutes of sitting on the loo, hyperventilating, he had finally plucked up the courage to leave. Alex's brother, who Hamish was pretty sure _wasn't_Alex's brother, had ordered him to go back outside, keep his gob shut and act normal.

He had also said, in no uncertain terms, that if Hamish didn't do that, then he would know. And there would be pain.

Which was why, after leaving the toilet block, he found himself having a panic attack. In the space of two minutes, at least six people, both classmates and teachers alike, had asked him if he was OK. Of course, it was a perfectly valid question – because he did, in all honesty, look like death warmed over. But still.

"Maybe you should go see the nurse," Mr. Haze was telling him, correctly interpreting the strained expression on Hamish's face as him wanting to get away. What he didn't get right, though, was Hamish's motivations. "I can understand why you'd want to grin and bear it, but looking tough should never take precedence over health…"

It was mildly ironic, that Mr. Haze was lecturing him about health when all Hamish was trying to do was, you know, _stay alive_.

"I'm-"

"He's right," another voice interrupted. "You really do look pale, Hame. Maybe I should take you to see the nurse."

Hamish stood, wide-eyed, as the blonde man stopped beside him and placed a heavy hand on his forehead. He was too shocked to recoil. "How do you-"

_'- know my name?'_Was what he was going to say, but Mr. Haze talked over the top of him.

"And you are?"

The blonde man smiled good-naturedly. "I'm Hamish's brother – Andy O'Callaghan. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Mr. Haze shook the hand that was offered, frowning. "I'm sorry; I thought Hamish's last name was Ulverstone…?"

"It is," was the smooth reply. "Different father's, you see. Though me and Hame don't let that get in the way, do we, kiddo?"

Hamish knew they were both looking at him – could feel their eyes boring into him, but couldn't find it in himself to speak.

"Hamish?" Mr. Haze pressed.

An elbow nudged into his ribs. Considering that Mr. Haze was openly standing in front of him, there was only one person it could be, and Hamish jumped, spurred into action.

"Y-yeah," he said, shifting uncomfortably. "A-Andy is a-awesome, y-you know?"

"I don't," Mr. Haze replied, rather flatly, as he looked between the two of them. "But if you say so…"

Hamish smiled, weakly. "H-he's f-fine."

Mr. Haze shot him one last questioning look, but seemingly didn't have time to investigate further as he noticed a group of quarrelling students over by the barbeques. Nodding curtly at Andy, he turned to leave. "I'll leave him to you."

And then he was gone.

The blonde waited until Mr. Haze was flustered and yelling on the other side of the clearing before he turned to Hamish. The smile was still there, but his face seemed harder, less inviting. "Hamish Ulverstone?" He asked, somewhat unnecessarily, as he pulled out his badge. "I'm with the London Tactical Response Unit. I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me."

* * *

By the time they returned to the starting point, it was chaos. Alex wasn't sure where these guys had been hiding, but there were over twenty men ushering and demanding and stone-walling the students and teachers back toward the parking lot where they had been dropped off. People were asking questions and protesting, not happy, as they were driven out by heavy-handed, jackbooted soldiers.

"You guys have a real tact for handling domestic situations," Alex observed, dryly, as he watched the cheerleading Captain, Jennifer Hale, lose her cool and lob a hefty can of deodorant at some poor bastard's head. "I'm beginning to see why carrying a gun is a job requirement…"

"Quiet, Cub," Wolf snapped, somewhere on his right, an unstable Jackson clinging to his arm. They were heading toward the first-aid station, which was set up next to the temporary canteen.

Alex glanced over at them, noticing that Eagle, too, had drifted over to the pallid boy, hovering in case he was needed. Perfect.

There was nobody near Alex that knew him well enough to know that they had to keep an eye on him at all times, lest he disappear. Like now. As they entered the throng of students, he drifted right to the edge of the group, walking side-by-side with a tall, gangly looking soldier for a few seconds before vanishing into the crowd.

* * *

Snake hadn't wanted to cause the kid any embarrassment by identifying himself in front of the teacher, nor had he wanted to get caught up selling the official story to a man smart enough to ask questions.

He took Hamish back to the surveillance van, where K-Unit had been waiting earlier, and sat him down in the back next to the friendly tech guy. The kid was rattled, realizing just how in-over-his-head he truly was, and scared that Snake would carry out whatever threats Eagle had used to get him to talk in the first place.

The next time he saw his teammate, Snake was going to smack him.

* * *

Alex arrived back at the spot he and Eagle had been sitting before the race had started. It was relatively deserted now, with only a few stray items and rubbish blowing about on the wind. Always the good Samaritan, he picked up a couple of soft drink cans and threw them in the bin.

"Gross," he muttered, as some leaked out onto his hands, making them sticky. Drying them off on Eagle's jacket, which may or may not have been a little vindictive, he wandered over to pick up his gear…

… And found it gone.

* * *

Jackson was sitting in the back of an ambulance, a ventilator on his face, shock blanket over his shoulder and an arm band squeezing his arm as the paramedic checked his blood pressure.

Eagle and Wolf watched from afar. Apparently the kid was an asthmatic; something the woman had told them when she had first examined him, and found his medic alert bracelet. Thankfully the trauma hadn't triggered and attack. Yet. There was still a chance for him to have one, though, which was why they were taking so many precautions.

_'Wolf_,' a voice came over their comm., startling them both in that way that unexpected things did. _'I have the kid. We're waiting for them to bring the body up so he can ID the suspect. He's a little shaken…'_

Eagle shifted guiltily. "My bad…"

_'… but otherwise alright. The Principle of the school has asked us to send more people to make sure the rest of the kids get on the buses safely, and someone to supervise them, too…'_

"Like we're a goddamn babysitting service," Wolf remarked, annoyed.

_'… So if one of you could take care of that, it'd be great.'_

"Why can't you do it?" Eagle spoke into his comm., not even a little bit inclined to do the job.

_'Because I'm busy,'_ was the short reply. _'I'm not leaving this kid alone to identify a corpse, Eagle. It's going to traumatize him enough as it is.'_

"I thought the tech guy was up there," Wolf muttered, but didn't broadcast the comment. Instead, he shot Eagle a meaningful look. "Well, I think you should go, seeing as your-"

"_I'm _Alex's brother," Eagle cut across him, smirking. "It would be a bit heartless of me to leave him here all alone, wouldn't it? I think you should go."

Wolf scowled. "Bloody prick…"

"You could have volunteered for the job, you know," Eagle replied, still firmly seated on his high-horse. "But you didn't, and I did. Deal with it."

If anything, Wolf's scowl got darker. "Alright, hotshot. You win. But if you're going to insist on lording that over me," his mouth twisted into a sharp, savage looking grin. "I suggest you find Alex – before people realize just how much of a crack brother you really are."

Eagle swore.

* * *

Eventually, Alex made his way back to the first-aid station.

The few men stationed around the area barely paid him any mind, and the one he politely asked to tell him where Jackson had disappeared to did little more than jerk his head at the ambulance behind them before turning back to what he was doing. Which was nothing. Alex frowned at him, disapprovingly, and then walked over to the vehicle.

It took Alex a few moments to distinguish the boy amongst the red sleeping bag they had cocooned him in. "What did they do to you?"

Jackson sniffed. "Don't even ask," he advised, pulling the camping gear up around his face, red nose resting on the yellow zipper. "I don't want to remember."

"That bad, huh?" The spy asked, sympathetic, as he wrapped his own jacket tighter around himself. He might not have been having as much of a bad time as Jackson, but he was still cold, and the midday breeze wasn't helping matters.  
_  
_"Worse," the boy complained, groaning._  
_  
Alex didn't envy the skinnier boy one bit. He told him so, too, getting him back for his part in telling the bad guy where to find him. Eagle had filled him in as he dragged them back to the starting point. Alex wasn't angry – so many people had tried to kill him that he didn't mind one more taking a shot. Besides, it wasn't like Jackson had tried to get him murdered on purpose. Accidents did happen, and all that.

Back in the vehicle, Jackson was frowning at him. Alex admitted feeling a bit guilty, especially when the boy dissolved into a fit of painful coughing. "Sorry, mate."

"Don't be," Jackson wheezed. He pulled out his Ventolin, presumably from his pocket, and carefully puffed on it until his breathing calmed down. "I did almost get you killed, you know. You're allowed to be annoying."

Alex snorted. "Thanks."

"Plus, you did, you know, save my life," Jackson continued, flushing. He shifted in discomfort, eyes purposefully staring over Alex's shoulder. "So I kind of owe you, and because of that…"

Blinking, Alex cocked his head, unsure of why Jackson had stopped talking. Then, he heard it – the all-too-familiar sound of combat boots marching toward him. Someone must have told Eagle where to find him.

"… I suggest you run."

Alex didn't.

Maybe it was his perpetually aching body, or his near-frozen state, courtesy of being slammed by a tonne of water. But as the soldier approached, frowning, intentions made clear by the sleeping bag tucked under his arm, Alex simply stood. Waiting.

Eagle had killed a man, saving Alex. Had turned up right when Alex had needed him most. That was more than he could say for a lot of people. So even though there was a high chance that Alex wasn't going to like what happened next, he would stay and hear Eagle out anyway. Because the man had earned it.

"Where the hell did you run off to?" Eagle said, something like worry behind the annoyed look on his face. "Christ, you're bloody frozen…"

Alex jerked away as Eagle felt his forehead with the back of his hand, indignant. "I'm fine."

"Cub, your lips are blue."

Jackson perked up at the nickname. "Cub? He calls you Cub? That's… _adorable_."

"He was dropped on his head as a baby," Alex informed the boy, flatly, looking unimpressed. "And I'm fine, Eagle. The blue is probably just… oxygen deficiency, or something."

"You call him Eagle?" Jackson was starting to look confused. "You guys are weird…"

"That doesn't help your case, Cub." Eagle told him, scowling. Then, he turned to Jackson. "What's wrong with my name?"

"Uh," Jackson recoiled into his own sleeping bag, as though the cushiony fabric was enough to stop Eagle if he decided to do something. "N-nothing…"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Must you scare the children?"

Jackson glared, half-heartedly, which made the remark almost worth it. But then Eagle was turning back toward him, gaze piercing, and Alex quickly regretted opening his mouth. "I found it works better than asking nice," the soldier told him, holding out the rolled up sleeping bag. On closer inspection, Alex noticed a dry set of clothes included in the bundle. "So how about you put these on? Or I'll break your legs."

"… That was terrible."

"Shut up, Cub."

* * *

Wolf was on the other end of the site, corralling students back onto the shuttle buses that had brought them down there earlier that morning. They went willingly, now, with only a few stopping to ask him what was going on.

"Why do we have to leave?" One such girl asked; her hair spray-painted neon green and texta drawings all over her face. It still amazed him, how seriously these kids took their sporting events. More likely than not, those were her house colours. "Did something happen?"

Glowering, Wolf tried to intimidate her into leaving without opening his mouth. The last girl he'd given the official line too had gone starry-eyed over his accent. It was mildly disturbing. "You're leaving because I said so," he answered, finally, when he realized she wasn't going to budge. "You're teachers will tell you what happened later."

"No, they won't."

Wolf shrugged. "Not my problem."

Unimpressed with his blasé attitude, the girl drew herself up, sneering, and proclaimed; "You suck."

More than a little irritated, Wolf scowled as the nameless girl flounced off, the switch of her hips entirely too provocative for someone her age. Disgusted, he turned away, and promptly bumped into someone else.

"What?" Wolf barked, exasperated, as he recognized the black-haired boy. It was the same kid that that had happily pointed them out to the crowd as they'd raced to back-up Eagle and Cub, with a _megaphone_, of all things.

While Wolf would concede that they were a bit of a spectacle, fully armed and running through a sea of teenagers as they had, the situation was made worse by the kid drawing more attention to them with his comments of 'Look, here come the secret police!' and 'Run, Forest, run!'

"Forest," the boy greeted cheerfully, smile fully dimpled as he incorrectly assumed that Wolf wouldn't eat him. "My man, what's up?"

Wolf began to answer, eyes narrowed, but didn't get far before Tom clapped him on the shoulder, secretly delighted to have found someone else who suffered from being short.

"That's great!" Tom continued, standing steadfast as his classmates swarmed around him, heading for the buses. He had no intention of going with them. "Look, I can't seem to find Alex. Do you know where he is?"

Shaking the kid's hand off of him, Wolf struggled with himself, barely restricting his answer to a growling; "No."

"I don't believe that," Tom responded easily, then let out an _'oof'_ and stumbled forward a step as somebody bumped into him. He straightened before Wolf could think to slip away, turning to glare at the sheepish boy behind him. "God, Marvin, I'm not _moving_. Go around, you idiot."

"Sorry, Harris," the other boy apologized. Quickly skirting around him, Marvin vanished into the steadily thickening crowd, sports bag slung over his shoulder.

Tom shook his head. "Just because I'm small," he told Wolf conversationally, not realizing that the man had started ignoring him. "You'd be surprised how often people don't bother looking down, or maybe you wouldn't. You're not exactly Godzilla yourself, you – hey! Are you even listening to me?"

Wolf, while touchy over his height issues, managed to contain his reaction to little more than a scowl. "You need to get on a bus, kid, before they leave. I'm not finding someone to take you home after that."

Of course, that was an empty threat. Wolf was legally obligated, first as an adult, then as a Government employee, to make sure the kid got where he needed to go safely.

But he wasn't going to tell Tom that.

"You might not have noticed, Forest, but I'm kind of small-"

Wolf interrupted, curtly. "You've said."

"- _and_," Tom continued, undeterred, arms crossed over his chest. It didn't look nearly as intimidating as Tom was hoping for. "In terms of proximity, that means that your face is probably the furthest thing from my fist. So, if you don't tell me where Alex is… I'm going to punch you in the balls."

"You… _what_?" That was hands down the weirdest threat he'd ever heard, and his hand half-reached, half-seizured towards his crotch before he forced it back to his side, glaring.

"You heard me." Tom said, standing a little straighter. His chin jutted out challengingly.

"Look, you little shit -

Tom pulled back, affronted. "You speak ze French to me?"

Wolf's eye twitched. This was going to be a long, long day – he could tell.

* * *

Alex had finally managed to settle down, his irritation at being ordered to change and wrap himself up dissolving into grudging gratitude as warmth started flooding through his body. He let his eyes slide closed, appreciating the comfort, and sighed, ignoring the soft chuckle that rumbled somewhere near his left. Thankfully, though, Eagle was considerate enough to not intrude on the moment, and kept his mouth shut.

It was while Alex was secretly enjoying the feeling of being warm, cozy and generally looked after, that Miss Bedfordshire found them.

"Jackson? Alex?" The woman cried out, elbowing one of the nameless SAS men out of the way, as she descended upon the ambulance. "Oh – oh my. Are you two alright? You look terrible!"

Alex sunk further into his sleeping bag with a groan. He wasn't ready to face this yet, and felt grateful when somebody else stepped in to deal with her for him.

"Ma'am," the deep, Liverpudlian accent that he recognized as belonging to Fox, said; while the man in question flipped open a police badge. "I'm Senior Sergeant Andrew Blake from the London Tactical Response Unit."

Miss B stared, looking rather like a deer-caught-in-headlights, and swallowed, hard. "I- I'm afraid I don't understand…"

"As Sergeant Mathews has already explained to you-"

"I thought that was Alex's brother," Miss B interrupted, worried. "Nobody told me he was a policeman. Why was he following Alex?"

"- There was an unfortunate incident earlier this morning which saw the maintenance crew forget to close the canal in preparation for the event-"

"It was dry before we got here," the teacher said, confused, as she wrung her hands together. "I checked it myself. Surely you don't think the boys would have climbed into that water by themselves. Poor Jackson looked half-drowned…"

"- Coincidentally," Fox plowed on, refusing to acknowledge the enormous, gaping holes in the official story. "A young inmate from a nearby correctional facility escaped last night, and was spotted a few hours ago in this vicinity. The LTRU responded as soon as we discovered his location, thus explaining our presence in the woods -"

"I saw you go into the trees after the race started, Mr. Blake," Miss B broke in yet again, now a little frustrated with the blatant lies he was trying to feed her. "I didn't hear anything about this poor boy on the news, either."

"- We apprehended the man, of course, and while returning, one of our officers saw these two boys having trouble trying to cross the canal. Sergeant Mathews then entered the water to rescue them, and here we are." Fox was tucking away his badge, refusing to meet the woman's accusing eyes. "It was really quite fortunate that we were-"

"Mr. Blake!" Miss B snapped, having long since lost her cool. Alex recoiled slightly at the angry voice of his teacher, and he wasn't the only one. In front of him, Fox eyed her warily. "I would thank you to not insult my intelligence any further! I heard the gunshot. I saw you bring that – that – _whoever_ that was out in a body bag! Jackson is_ traumatized_. Clearly something else happened here. I, for one, would like to know what!"

Fox cleared his throat, looking pained. "If there is something you are still unsure of, ma'am, then me and Mathews-"

"Mathews and I," Miss B corrected, eyes flashing.

Fox nodded, properly chastised. "- then Mathews and I would be happy to go over it again."

Miss B glared at him, and then at Eagle, who was absently rubbing the back of his neck and looking everywhere else but at her. "I do _not_believe you," she announced, infuriated.

"You're right," Alex wholeheartedly agreed, finally resurfacing from his warm cocoon to offer the distressed woman some moral support. "Not even I would believe that. They're mental."

Eagle and Fox simultaneously reached out to smack him upside the head.

* * *

"… kid, you need to get on a bus before I _throw_you under one."

Wolf was starting to lose it. It had been at least twenty minutes – the crowd had thinned out to the odd straggler, and there were only two buses left at the stop. A couple of teachers were perusing the grounds, making sure they hadn't left anyone behind. He'd tried to get a couple to take his unofficial tag-a-long, but all he got was a knowing, sympathetic smile for his efforts. It was like they were saying _'he's your problem now.'_

"I told you already," Tom said, cheerfully, as he dutifully followed the pacing soldier. "Alex is my friend. I'm the Robin to his Batman, the Watson to his-"

"Yeah, yeah," Wolf ground out, annoyed. "I've already heard it. Christ, you're like a broken record…"

Tom looked mildly put out by the interruption, but quickly bounced back. "Well, anyway. I'm not leaving here without him."

Wolf sighed. The kid had guts, certainly, but survival instincts? Not so much. Still, he felt a grudging respect for the kid's blunt, fearless attitude. Didn't mean he was going to give him what he wanted, though.

In the original plan, Alex was the only kid who knew about the situation, and now they had three extra witnesses that needed to be debriefed, informed and promptly intimidated into signing the Official Secrets Act. One more loose end was not something anybody wanted right now.

Especially one this annoying.

"I've heard that before, too, but kid, you really do have to go. I can't take you to Alex – he has to be taken down to the station for a statement."

"Oh, please," Tom said, snorting. "Like you expect me to believe you're with the police. Look, Fox or Snake or whatever your name is, I'm not du – whoa, watch it!"

Tom barely stopped himself from slamming into Wolf's back as the man stumbled, eyes widening as the secret, _highly classified_information spilled from the teenager's lips – like it was normal, everyday conversation, or something. "What the hell did you just say?"

"Come to think of it," Tom pretended not to hear him, and, rather impishly, tapped his chin in mock-thought. "Al did mention a guy like you… short, angry, a proverbial stick shoved up his-"

A hand snaked out, grabbing a fistful of Tom's 'I Know H.T.M.L – How To Meet Ladies' shirt. Tom grinned, knowing he'd won.

"… Wolf?"

"Come with me."

* * *

"Hamish," Snake called into the van. "Can you come out here please?"

The forensic team had finally finished up down at the canal, and the body had been carried into the parking lot on the stretcher. It was wrapped in a body bag, though somebody hadn't bothered to zip it up.

Snake frowned, standing, and quickly blocked it from view as the boy stepped out of the vehicle.

"You remember what I told you?" The soldier asked, somewhat gently, as the boy visibly swallowed, looking nervous.

Hamish nodded once, eyes drawn to the dark, canvas bag behind Snake in morbid fascination. "Yeah, I- I remember."

"Good." Snake replied, smiling encouragingly. "All I need is for you to tell me if this was the man who asked you about Alex, okay? Take as long as you need. I need to you be sure – it's really important that you're sure."

Again, Hamish nodded. His fists clenched by his sides, and his body trembled, but even so, he gritted his teeth, steeling himself. This man had nearly killed Jack, and Alex, and Hamish wasn't naïve enough to think that he would have lived much longer if the man had succeeded. As the only person to have seen his face, he probably would have been killed eventually, too.

"Ready?"

Hamish looked the soldier straight in the eye, determined. "Show me."

* * *

_'Sir,'_ a disembodied voice sounded through the comm. It wasn't one that any of the four members of K-Unit immediately recognized. _'We've got a situation, over.'  
_  
Fox was the first to respond. He stepped away from the kids and toggled his headset. "This is Fox. What's the situation?"

_'We've got a kid down by the trail, Sir. He looks to be in a bad way – said he was at the canal when everything went down, then he passed out. Brodsky and Griffin are attending him now, but we're going to need an EVAAC.'_

Another kid? Fox glanced back at Jackson and Alex, double-checking to make sure they were there, even though he knew they were. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Eagle," he said, slowly, as he turned to his teammate. "Was there another kid down by the water?"

Eagle had gone dreadfully pale. "Shit…"

"What happened?" Fox asked, quickly, motioning the man away from the two teenagers so they could speak without being overheard. "Do you remember another kid?"

"There was a third," the soldier said, quietly. "He was on the other side of the river – mustn't have climbed in when the other two did. Somebody from back-up took him."

Fox was frowning. "Did anything about it seem off?" He asked, and then hastily added, because he knew Eagle would never let something that didn't add up just slip by; "Now that you think about it?"

"I – he took him the other way," there was horror dawning on the man's controlled features. "Christ, I didn't even _think_…"

"You were distracted," Fox told him, bluntly. "Alex and Jackson needed your help and you had no reason to believe that there was anything wrong. Don't beat yourself up about it, alright?"

Eagle ran a hand through his hair. "Is he okay, at least?"

"I'll go down to them. I'll bring a couple of men with a stretcher; we'll get him back here. You put a call out to the hospital and stay with the boys. Make sure nobody but you gets close to them. Got it?"

"I got it," Eagle reassured.

Fox clapped him on the back, signaled a couple of men, and then left, speaking into his headset the entire time.

* * *

"Alex!" Tom cried out, utterly distraught, as he flung himself at his best friend. There was a pained yelp as he shoved Jackson out of the way. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…"

"It's alright, Tom," Alex reassured, offering a smile as the boy grabbed onto the soft, pillowy cocoon Eagle had wrapped him in, wide-eyed. "I'm fine."

"What's _wrong_ with you?" Wailed Tom, undeterred, as he shook the young spy, who couldn't raise a hand to stop him. Literally. The blankets surrounding him were like a straightjacket, and he was starting to suspect that his _brother_had done it to stop him running away, rather than keep him warm. "Of course you're alright! You're always alright!"

Alex blinked, frowning. "What's the problem, then?"

Tom looked like he was about to have kittens. "The problem? The _problem_? Are you serious, Al?"

"Yes…" Alex said, slowly, unsure of what was going on, or if he even wanted to know. Not that it mattered. His puffy marshmallow suit wasn't exactly escape-friendly. Though, to be fair, even if he had found a way to disappear, Tom would have managed to tell him anyway. Kid had a penchant for defying the laws of – well. Everything, really.

"I can't believe you, Al!" There was more shaking. Alex watched Jackson attempting to roll away from them in his own cocoon. _Lucky bastard_. "I really can't!"

Tom took a shuddering breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say next. Alex got the distinct impression that the world was about to end, or something. "Al…" Tom was staring at him, beyond serious, eyes deeply meaningful.

Feeling a little worried, now, Alex wriggled a bit so he was sitting straighter. Had something happened? Had there been more than one bad guy? Had someone else gotten hurt? "What? What is it? Tom, tell me!"

Tom sniffed, tearful. "Al… you…"

"I, what?" Alex was on full alert, the suspense only a few seconds away from killing him. "Spit it out, Tom!"

"You lost the race!"

It was howled in such a heartbreakingly, despairing voice that it took Alex a moment to realize how incredibly anticlimactic the declaration was. "Oh."

"Don't you 'oh' me!" Tom clobbered him over the head, so hard that Alex caught a brief glimpse of their nebula before recovering. "I lost a hundred pounds because of you! _One hundred_ _pounds_! Do you even _know_how long it took me to save that up?"

Of course Alex knew - his best friend hardly ever lifted a finger to help anyone, let alone do chores. It had probably taken him _years_to come up with that cash. "I do, mate, and I'm so – ow!"

Tom had hit him again. "No excuses!"

"I was apologizing!"

"I don't care!" Tom shouted, hands flailing and banging against Alex as he started ranting again, telling everybody who would listen about all the people who would be out to get him, now, and also announcing that it was entirely Alex's fault for ruining his scam, which was now going to get _him_scammed and then Alex stopped listening.

Behind Tom, the soldier who had brought him there finally appeared, having been trailing after the boy at the slowest pace humanly possible. Alex glared at him as he came into sight; '_this is your fault_.'

Wolf glared right back, '_don't blame me for your bad taste in friends'_.

* * *

Hamish was shaking.

Snake put a hand on his shoulder. "You can stop looking if you want, kiddo. It's alright if you don't want to…"

"N-no," Hamish choked out, gaze fixated on the man lying before him. He was pale – ghastly pale, with a round, red hole in the center of his forehead. There were only a few trickles of blood, which were thin and dried. Snake had done him a small mercy by closing the man's eyes, but it didn't change much. "I-it – that's n-not it."

The soldier frowned. "What's the matter, then?"

Hamish leant forward a little more, trying to get a closer look, because he had to be sure – he _had _to, and that was the problem. He was sure. His shaking got worse. "I-it's not h-him."

* * *

It was like someone had put the poor thing through a mincer. Just by looking at him, Fox could tell that there were broken bones, fractures, possibly internal bleeding. When the medic pulled an eyelid and revealed an eye that looked like raspberry jelly, he felt sick.

The kid had been hit so hard in the head that the blood vessels in his cornea had burst.

"It will clear up in a couple of weeks, with the right treatment," the medic had said, sensing the collective distress in the men surrounding him. "The blood will recede, and it will be back to normal again. He will recover."

"He shouldn't have to," someone muttered. Another agreed.

Fox stepped forward to help the painstakingly slow and careful process of moving the injured boy onto the stretcher without hurting him. When they were done, he pulled away with smears of blood on his hands. On the stretcher, the boy woke.

"D-di-n't…"

Something brushed against him. Looking down, Fox saw the kid's small, discolored hand clinging to one of the Velcro straps on his Kevlar. Instinctively, he reached down to support it.

"D-didn't t-e…"

"What's he saying?" The soldier, the one Fox recognized as Brodsky, asked. Fox didn't answer him, but shifted closer, trying to hear.

"D-didn't t-tell…" James rasped, staring at Fox through one red eye and one brown, desperate for him to understand. "D-didn't tell…"

"I know," the soldier reassured him gently, cupping the bruised and battered face in his hand. He leaned closer, so he could lower his voice into something more soothing and still be heard. "Shhh, kid, I know you didn't tell. I know you didn't. It's okay."

James was starting to drift again. "Didn't t-tell…"

The pain was reaching his conscious threshold. He moaned, softly, pitifully, eyes rolling around in his head. Fox stayed with him, babbling comforting nonsense all the while, until he passed out again.

It was like a knife through the heart, to think that they had forgotten him.

* * *

_'It wasn't him,' _Snake informed them over the comm. _'Hamish didn't recognize him. The man who asked him about Alex is still out there.'_

_'I know,_' Fox spoke sharply into his headset, jogging after the medic and the stretcher as they headed back to the ambulance. _'Whoever is after Alex is still around. They've beaten this kid to hell and back again, probably looking for information. Kid's adamant that he didn't tell them anything, though.'_

_'Can you be sure?'_ Eagle asked, the crackling static not quite hiding the guilt in his voice.

Fox only had to think back to the hand on his vest – the soft, broken voice of the kid in front of him, and he had his answer. _'Kid didn't say anything. I'm sure of it.'_

_'It doesn't matter if he said anything or not,'_ Wolf broke in, sliding easily into the role of leader. _'Point is there's a storm coming. Kit up and be on alert. We need to get these kids out of here.'_

_'Copy that.'_

* * *

Eagle appeared at the back of the ambulance, expression tight. "You three – I need you to get as far into the back as you can. Tom – is that your name?" At the boy's nod, he continued. "I need you to lock the front doors. Don't stay up there too long, alright? And keep away from the windows – that goes for all of you."

With that, the soldier vanished from sight.

Jackson was still adjusting to the interruption. The three of them had gotten engrossed in a conversation about video games. Eagle abruptly cutting them off with something that sounded so ominously serious had completely thrown him. "That was strange…"

"Do what he says, Tom," Alex said, voice strained, as he started battling with the ridiculous cocoon surrounding him. "And don't keep your head up for too long – it's an open target."

Fear flashed across the boy's face, but he didn't let it faze him. Dodging passed Jackson and Alex, he ran into the back of the ambulance and dived into the front, keeping his belly flat against the seats as he locked the driver and passenger doors.

Jackson looked alarmed. "What's going on?"

"Something's up," Alex replied, shortly, as he found the zipper and quickly started to undo it. If there was going to be a fight, he wanted to be able to move freely. "I thought it might have been."

"What was that, Cub?" Wolf had replaced Eagle in the doorway, an automatic rifle slung over his shoulder and a .45 on his hip. He pulled the rifle over his head and leaned it up against the side of the ambulance, next to the defibrillator. Next, he un-holstered his handgun and flicked the safety off, though he made sure the barrel was pointing outside. "You thought something was wrong and didn't tell us?"

Alex said nothing; not until Wolf pressed him with his sharp, I'm-in-charge voice. "Answer me, kid."

"The man got to us too quickly," Alex relented after a moment, refusing to meet Wolf's gaze. "From what I saw, the controls were too far away for him to have opened the floodgates and then be there to threaten us when we came up. There had to have been two people."

Wolf wasn't staring at him anymore, having turned his attention to his weapons. He was methodically checking to make sure there was a round in the chamber, and a full mag in his gun – just in case. "And?"

"And…" Alex bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that he would most likely get grilled for this later on – if they weren't dead, of course. "When I left earlier… I went to get my gear, but it was… It was gone."

_Now_Wolf glowered at him. "When we get out of this, we are going to work on your communication skills."

"But-"

"No 'buts', kid." Wolf snapped, angry. "By keeping that from us, you endangered not only yourself, but your friends, too. If we had known that something was even remotely off, we would have had you out of here by now."

"Why haven't we left, then?" Tom retorted, jumping to the defense of his friend without a second thought. "If we're in so much _danger_, like you say, why haven't you driven us out of here yet?" He had climbed back over the front seats, cheeks flushed with rarely seen temper. "Just because you lot don't know how to do your job doesn't mean you can take it out on Alex! A two-year-old could have figured that out!"

Wolf didn't answer, but then, he didn't really get a chance to, because a few moments later, Fox was snapping at the lot of them to budge up and a stretcher was being shoved into the back, with a very familiar face on it.

"James!" Jackson cried out, alarmed.

Tom looked horrified, reaching out to the quirky boy. "Jesus! What happened? Who did that to him?"

Alex had gone deadly silent as he watched the scene unfold before him, a dangerous, white-hot rage welling up inside of him.

_'I'll make them pay.'  
_  
That was when the first bullet hit.

* * *

"Fuck!" Fox shouted, suddenly realizing the enormity of what had happened. There were masked men flooding out of the trees, none of which were actively bothering to aim their weapons as they sprayed wave after wave of bullets at them. It didn't seem to matter who the target was – they were just going to keep killing until they killed the right person.

With most of their forces scattered about the place, there was little K-Unit could do. They were severely outnumbered, which had probably been the plan all along. By leaving James alive, by dropping him off where he could be found – the enemy had pretty much guaranteed themselves a trail. They'd used the kid as bait, and had tailed James' would-be-rescuers straight back to Cub.

"Sir!" Brodsky was shouting at him, amidst the noise and flying bullets. "Sir, you need to get the kids out of here! You need to get them to safety!"

Fox stared at him dumbly. The first thing any soldier was taught – the code that they lived their lives by: _Leave No Man Behind._

He couldn't leave them.

"Go!" Roared the soldier, knowing exactly what Fox was thinking. "We'll be fine! Our guys on the other side know we've run into trouble, they'll be here to bail us out any minute! But you can't risk the kids! You've got to go!"

There was no other choice.

Wolf was crouched next to the ambulance, laying down covering fire as Fox pelted toward him. The doors had been shut to keep the kids safe, and the engine was running. As the two members of K-Unit slipped into the back of the vehicle, whoever was in the driver's seat hit the accelerator and they were off.

* * *

For some insanely incomprehensible reason, Tom was driving.

At least that was how it was for the first nail-biting minutes of their getaway, before the crunching gear changes and too-fast braking did Wolf's head in and they did an impromptu driver switch. Tom was secretly grateful, but he kept up appearances for the sake of normalcy and started backseat-driving, simply to fill the silence. Nobody mentioned it – but the noise was comforting.

In the back, Jackson sat by James' side and Fox sat by Jackson, keeping an eye on them both. He let Jackson do the talking, even though James wasn't awake, and pretended not to hear what was being said for the sake of privacy. It sounded like the two were close, and Jackson was doing it better than Fox ever could.

Across from them were Alex and Eagle. The two were sitting right next to each other; Alex with his head in his hands and Eagle with an arm slung across the kid's shoulders as he muttered consolingly in his ear. "It's not your fault, Cub," and "Don't blame yourself," were a few of the remarks Fox caught before he tuned them out, too.

They sped out onto the highway a couple of minutes later, the sudden change from bumpy gravel to smooth bitumen barely noticed by the group. Their destination was the hospital - St Dominic's, and then somewhere else secure, once everyone had been treated. Nobody really wanted to think about it.

Wolf looked into one of the side-mirrors as Tom talked his ear off, sighing slightly in relief as he caught sight of the grey van tailing them.

"Snake's found us."

Everything was going to be alright – they were together now.


End file.
